A local judge is caught in bed with a foreign prostitute in an episode of the hit Chinese TV show In the Name of the People. Picture: Oriental Projection/YouTube

It’s all in a day’s work for the hottest show on Chinese TV right now, In the Name of the People, a 55-part drama which has been dubbed China’s version of the Netflix political drama House of Cards.

Since its premiere in March, the show has lured billions of viewers each week, who tune in to watch grovelling public officials brought to justice by the upstanding detective Hou Liangping — played by Chinese heart-throb Lu Yi — who roots out corruption in the fictional city of Jingzhou.

The show, based on a novel of the same name by author Zhou Meisen, is notable not only because it depicts seedy activity rarely discussed in public in China, but because it has the backing of China’s national prosecutor’s office, the Supreme People’s Procuratorate, which funded the show’s production to the tune of 120 million yuan ($23.5 million).

“This TV drama feels so real. It really cheers people up,” one viewer wrote on social network Weibo, according to the BBC. “I shed tears after watching this drama. This is the tumour of corruption that has been harming the people,” wrote another.

With the previews declaring that China is “a country of the people, all power belongs to the people”, the TV series is the latest propaganda push since President Xi Jinping launched his anti-corruption drive in 2012, which has previously seen taped confessions of corrupt officials broadcast on state TV.

Zhou, who is also the show’s screenwriter, told local media he was surprised government officials approved all 55 episodes of the show. “For a long time, many people thought that if we kept our eyes closed, there wouldn’t be any corruption,” he said.

“Many government officials in charge of culture have become security hawks blocking the public from seeing artistic works on anti-corruption. We all badly need heroes, upright law-enforcing heroes like Hou Liangping.”

Yuan Zeng, a media researcher at City University of Hong Kong, said the Communist party had evolved its propaganda from crying confessions, to documentaries, to entertaining TV dramas aimed at a mass audience.

The show stars Chinese heart-throb Lu Yi as a detective Hou Liangping, who roots out corruption in the fictional city of Jingzhou. Picture: Oriental Projection/YouTubeSource:YouTube

The show was funded by China's national prosecutor's office, the Supreme People’s Procuratorate, to the tune of $23.5 million. Picture: Oriental Projection/YouTubeSource:YouTube

“A public official from the Supreme People’s Procuratorate told Chinese media they were given instructions from the media watchdog to promote ‘positive energy’ by showcasing the resolution of China’s anti-corruption campaign, rather than the scale of corruption in the country,” she wrote on The Conversation.

With 11 more anti-corruption dramas in production, this “deluge can be expected to shape the public narrative in China about the Xi administration’s anti-graft campaign and its grand achievements”.

“For now, it has become obligatory to watch In the Name of the People in China. That’s actually literally the case in some cities where Party cadres are required to watch and write reviews of no less than 1500 words.

“Perhaps others watch it in the hope of learning how to survive political power struggles. And the whole nation seems to be following the show to catch up on trending topics of national relevance, both online and offline.”

But while public discussion appears largely positive, that doesn’t mean it is without controversy. “On Zhihu, a Quora-like knowledge-sharing Chinese website, which has more than 20 million users, of 169 answers in [a thread about In the Name of the People], 145 answers have been removed,” she wrote. “Most were taken down for being ‘politically sensitive’ according to the website.”

One Chinese-Australian fan explained the appeal to news.com.au. “It’s the hottest show in China, every freshie I know is watching it,” he said. “It’s popular because it gives the battler some semblance of equality, albeit in a Communist country.”

He added that it “shows why they need to get the money out” into Australian real estate, saying it was timely given last week’s Federal Budget which included a “ghost tax” of at least $5000 a year for foreign investors who intentionally leave properties empty.

“A wall full of cash — one dogbox apartment is worth more than an entire house-load of RMB,” he said. “Apartments in Sydney are Escobar’s equivalent of buried cash in Colombia.”